Breaking Point
by Kierr
Summary: Roger Smith takes pride in being the city's top most respected negotiator. Jason Beck takes pride in the fact that he has him kidnapped. What happens when Roger finds himself helpless and at the mercy of the infamous golden criminal? Roger/Beck


_ Hey, guys. To begin, it's my first posted fic, so go easy, please. Also, Big O and none of these characters belong to me. Rated M because later, it will turn into... well, yaoi, pretty much. I haven't seen any Roger/Beck yaoi on the site, which could mean A) nobody's gotten around to it, or B) Nobody likes it. We'll find out which one it is, now won't we?  
Thanks, I hope you enjoy it. Now, on with the show..._

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Breaking Point

Chapter One

In his life, Roger smith had experienced numerous amounts of unsettling awakenings, but this would have to be one of the worst. The first thing he noticed was that his neck hurt like hell. He winced, and lifted his head to move it around a bit, but stopped when his head collided with something cold and hard. He tried moving his arms, but they wouldn't budge. They were being held back by metal restraints around his wrists. Same for his legs, he soon found out. Roger opened his eyes.

"About time, crow boy."

Roger's eyes widened in shock as he heard the sound of the voice. His head shot up to see Jason Beck, the illustrious golden criminal, sitting lazily on a raised platform a few feet in front of him. With one leg hanging over the edge and the other acting as a resting place for his arm, Beck looked up at him with a crooked grin.

"Geez, thought you'd never wake up. I'll have to tell the boys not to whack that pretty little head of yours so hard next time." He grunted as he stood up, then stretched and exhaled.

Roger was speechless. He had come to realize that he was clamped to a metal wall in another one of Beck's "villainous hideouts". His hair was messed and shaggy, his tie was missing, and there was a fresh new gash in his shoulder that had managed to rip his favorite jacket.

Beck put his hands in his pockets and leaned forward. He eyed Roger quizzically and tilted his head to the side.

"Well? Aren't you going to say something?" Roger couldn't find anything to say. He just stared at the blonde man in front of him with wide eyes. Beck pushed onward. "Come on, anything; give me something to work with here."

"… What the hell?"

Beck's head dropped. "You could be a little more creative than that." Disappointed, he sighed, then jumped off the platform and walked towards Roger.

Suddenly, Roger's head began to clear. Beck had sent Roger a recorded message saying that he had Dorothy captured, yet again. Roger had come rushing to her rescue, only to find himself captured by a group of Beck's goons before he could find out where Dorothy was being held--

Oh no.

"What have you done?!" Roger shouted, struggling against the restraints. "_Where's Dorothy?_"

Beck turned on his heels, a dumbfounded expression on his face. Soon, it turned into comprehension, which then turned into immense amusement. His grin stretched from ear to ear as Roger watched him double over with laughter.

"Oh boy, you seriously didn't think I was going to try _that _again, did you?" Beck said, putting his hands on his hips. He took out a cassette tape player and pressed a button.

"Roger, help me. Roger, help me. Roger..."

A smirk tugged at the corner of Beck's mouth. "You do know that android's voices are not difficult to recreate, don't you?"

Roger's eyes widened in realization. He hadn't taken Dorothy at all. He had just rashly assumed so because he had been so used to the repeated ordeal. He had eagerly rushed right into Beck's trap, with nobody on the other side to save. Suddenly, he felt very, very stupid.

The silence was the only answer Beck needed. He clutched his sides and howled with laughter as he fell over, rolling and clapping his feet together. "Oh man, this is perfect… absolute _gold_…"He wiped a tear from his eye and got up slowly. "I got crow boy here on his own accord! Man, I knew you were dense, but being the city's top negotiator and all I thought you'd at least have _some_ sense! Haha, man, what a riot!"

"Shut it--!" Roger barked.

"I'm afraid you're in no position to make demands, my funky-eyebrowed friend." Said Beck, walking towards him with his hands in his pockets. When they were only a few feet apart, the golden man pulled one of his hands out of his pocket and dangled a small metal object in front of Roger's face.

"My watch!" He felt an abrupt sense of vulnerability. His watch was his only way out in most of his sticky situations. But this time, Beck had thought ahead.

"That's right, buck-o. I've got your one chance of escape right here in my hands, and there's nothing you can do about it." He grinned toothily and narrowed his eyes. Roger's arms strained against the holds, but they wouldn't budge even an inch. Soon he found himself withering around, desperate to escape the iron clutches.

"Oh please, don't even try it." Beck said, rolling his eyes. "This stuff's latest and greatest design in technology, made by yours truly." He gestured towards himself and bowed, obviously very proud of his latest stroke of villainous genius. "Keep struggling and all you'll do is wear yourself out."

Roger was quiet for a moment, but then exhaled, letting his body go limp. There was no point in wasting his energy right now. He'd figure out a plan later when this asshole wasn't here to make annoying noises. Then again, he thought, maybe he could find a way out of it now. There was no need to use force, at the moment, at least. After all, he was a negotiator. Perhaps he could negotiate his way out of this—

"And _don't_ try to negotiate your way out of this." Beck interrupted his thought process. "You know I won't listen, anyway." He stuck his pinkie finger in his ear and twisted it around. "Besides, once you're out of the way, I can commit all the crimes I want. Who's going to stop me? The police?" Beck scoffed and his face hardened. He walked slowly towards Roger, keeping his narrow eyes glued to the other man's. His gaze was acidic. "Yeah, they always come, don't they? Trying to snatch a bit of glory shining off that Megadeuce of yours. Pathetic." He spat. Roger flinched away; their faces were now so close together. He felt Beck's hot breath find its way down his neck, which, ironically, sent a shiver down his spine.

Beck felt Roger's discomfort. He looked the man up and down, then huffed and backed off, turning and walking the other way. "Anyway, they won't be a problem, so there's no sense in worrying 

about it." He shrugged and turned on his heels to face Roger once again. "But finally, you're here, in my humble abode. I've been meaning to invite you for some time, but I thought you might be…" He paused, looking at Roger's imprisoned state. "… Reluctant."

"Gee, I wonder why."

"Yeah, funny, innit?"

Roger rolled his eyes and Beck chuckled. "For a long time, I wondered how I might actually _exact my revenge_. Yeah, I considered using Dorothy again, but when the 'third time's the charm' thing doesn't work, I figured it'd be time to try something new. Though it did seem to work as a nice lure, didn't it...?" Beck's level of enthusiasm was steadily rising.

"So I thought to myself," Beck said, gesturing animatedly, "'What in the world could mean more to that guy than his _precious little Dorothy_?'" He exaggerated the last few words and pouted his lip, looking up at Roger with big eyes. Roger's face went tense as he felt the heat rise to his face. A growl emitted from his throat which melted Beck's expression. The blonde began to snicker to himself.

Roger spat into Beck's grinning face. Now frowning, he took a gloved hand and cleaned off his brow.

With his voice burning with resentment, Beck finished:

"His pride."

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(End of Chapter 1! Thanks, guys!)


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